The Beaten and the Damned
by racefh853629
Summary: They thought the worst was behind them. Come to find, it was only just beginning. Sequel to "The Savior of the Broken."
1. Wake Up and Go To Hell

A/N: Hello, and welcome to the sequel for "The Savior of the Broken." If you haven't read the first one, you might want to do that before continuing with this one, because character background is essential knowledge in this one. Of course, I don't own any characters and entities you recognize, including (but not limited to) CSI, CBS, and characters from other shows. Mia is, however, one of my own characters, and I'm quite pleased with her. She's come a long way since the last story, and you will see obvious differences. However, I hope you guys enjoy this one as much as the other, and please review. :)

* * *

Prologue: Waking Up From Hell Only to Go to Hell

_He stared at her naked body, spread out across the floor, chemically restrained from the barbituate he had injected her with previously. She struggled mentally, trying to get her body to respond to her fight or flight mechanisms. Still no reaction. He readied himself, and she whimpered, too afraid to scream for the repercussions it would have on those around her. Particularly Greg, whom he had threatened explicitly and she was falling in love with. She privately hoped she'd be able to get out of here to tell him that. And that man, his body pressed over her, and she shook. His mouth opened, and uttered only one word. "Mia." The voice wasn't his, but she couldn't put her finger on who it belonged to. It rang out again. "Mia." Her body continued to shake as the voice beckoned her. "Mia…"

* * *

_

"Mia," Greg called, shaking her gently. Finally, her whole body jumped, causing her to wake up. She panted wildly, struggling to catch her breath as she batted the nightmare out of her brain.

"Oh, God," she said softly. Greg frowned slightly.

"Hodges again?" She nodded, still trembling. He put his hand on her shoulder gently, squeezing it tenderly.

"I swear, he was going to rape me." He nodded.

"It was only a dream." She sighed, her breath finally stable, before shaking her head.

"Felt real to me." Truth be told, even now that she was awake, she could still feel his eyes watching her, his breath on her neck, and the heaviness the drug caused.

"You're safe now," Greg told her warmly. She looked up at him, shaking her head.

"Not from my own damned mind," she replied bitterly. He sighed. He knew she wasn't really angry with him, just her situation. Everything with Hodges had gone down six months ago, and yet, her nightmares were worsening. She had asked Greg to stay with her, to wake her up when they got bad. Consequently, anything close to a relationship that they were having was constantly strained because he was seeing her in a vulnerable state most of the time, and she was taking it out on him. She sighed softly, looking over at him. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I don't mean to snap at you."

"I know," he replied soothingly. She nodded, knowing she didn't need to explain further. In the six months since the incident, he had been around moments like these enough to know how to act and where her emotions and reactions come from.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay." She sighed, and he hugged her gently. She rested her head against his shoulder, surprising him slightly. She hadn't done that yet. She burrowed against him, and he understood why she was so cuddly as he felt the hot drops of moisture soak into his chest. He stroked her back softly and soothingly, saying nothing as she cried. She didn't need to hear his words, hear him say that everything would be okay. She would fight him on it because she knew better anyway. She stopped crying, and just stayed tight against him, breathing in his scent. She felt him kiss her on the top of the head, and smiled slightly to herself.

"Do we have to go to work?" she whispered. He laughed.

"Unfortunately, yes," he replied. "'Rick and Cath are still on vacation, remember?"

"Oh, right." Warrick had left Tina five months ago, and he and Catherine had started dating shortly after. The team was now officially split- Catherine supervised Greg and Nick, and Grissom supervised Warrick and Mia. However, the two teams still worked together, only Warrick and Catherine couldn't work a case together, nor could Greg and Mia. She sighed softly, kissing him on the cheek as she pulled away from him.

"You okay?" he asked softly. It was a phrase he couldn't stop himself from saying. He flinched slightly, expecting her to lash out like she always did when he asked her that. Instead, she stood and ran her fingers gently through his hair.

"I will be," she told him honestly. He nodded, and she cocked her head to the side with a smirk. "But if you ever ask me that again…"

"I know, I know." She smiled, and he stood up, following her out of the room and starting breakfast.

* * *

She kept her back straight, her head tall in arrogance, walking slowly but surely down the halls of the LVPD Crime Lab. He walked behind her a few steps behind her, not in fear or necessity or anything, but simply because he loved to watch her walk. She had this air of confidence around her, no matter what she was really feeling. He, however, from studying her movements intently, had gotten good at seeing through all of that.

Today, despite her walk, Mia was feeling vulnerable, open and exposed. Greg frowned as he followed her, wondering what exactly was going on in her mind. That area was still uncharted territory, despite how much she had let him in already. She was still wildly unpredictable, something that worried him. He was afraid she would revert to her suicidal ways after six months of therapy and love.

"Why do you always walk behind me?" she asked. He picked up his head to realize that she had stopped. Her normal cocky stance was weakened, and he smiled, hoping it would make her feel better.

"I like to watch you walk," he replied simply. She arched her eyebrows in amusement and curiosity. "You're beautiful." She smiled slightly.

"Thanks, I guess." She took his hand gently, and he nodded. She needed the strength today more than yesterday. He didn't question why, just understood that was the case. He squeezed her hand softly before walking into the break room with her. Nick stood at the coffee maker, and didn't react to the two new guests. Mia grinned evilly as she dropped Greg's hand. "Hey, Moby Dick," she snapped. Nick groaned.

"Hey Mia," he said softly, taking the mug he had poured and sitting at the table with it. "Greg."

"How's it going?" Greg asked softly. Nick shrugged, nursing his cup of coffee in silent remembrance. Mia and Greg looked at each other before she sat down next to him.

"What's wrong?" she asked softly. Nick looked up at her before shrugging and looking back down again. "Family problems?" He snapped his head up to her.

"How…" he asked.

"You're not seeing anyone, and everyone on the team is fine." He nodded. "What's wrong with them?"

"She. She's pregnant."

"How old is she?"

"Seventeen."

"Oh, I'm sure that went over well with conservative Mommy and Daddy. What are they gonna do, send her to the fat camp?" Nick shrugged, shaking his head.

"They kicked her out."

"Your brother and his wife?"

"Sister."

"The unmarried one?" Nick nodded, then tilted his head to the side.

"Well, technically, Genevieve is divorced."

"Didn't she have her first at seventeen?"

"First abortion, maybe."

"Isn't having a kid better than killing it?"

"Not to her."

"So what's your niece gonna do?"

"I don't know."

"What about your parents?" Greg asked.

"She's afraid of them," Nick replied.

"Mikayla is?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because my parents were the ones that wanted Genevieve to have an abortion. Young parenthood bothers them."

"Mikayla's the adopted one, right?"

"No, that's Jamie."

"Oh."

"Why do you care so much?" Mia asked. "I mean, I know you love your family, but you wouldn't care this much if she wasn't yours. You would've been, what, 19 when she was born? Which means you were in college."

"Yeah, so? That doesn't make her my kid. And, in fact, she's not mine. She's Genevieve's." Mia shrugged, staring in his eyes before nodding. "I'm telling you the truth."

"I know."

"How?"

"The eyes make a good lie detector." Nick nodded, sighing. "Are you close with her?"

"Fairly."

"And she's alone now?"

"Yes."

"Take her in." Nick looked at her incredulously.

"Have you lost your mind?"

"No, I'm serious," Mia said. "Bring her here to Vegas, set her up, help her out. She is your flesh and blood, after all." He grumbled softly. "We'll help you as much as we can." He arched his eyebrows.

"Really?"

"Of course. That's what family does." The statement was ironic, coming from her. She, who never knew what family was. She, who never really fit in with everyone and seemed to cause more drama than she was worth. Nick nodded, realizing that Mia had changed quite a bit in six months.

"I'll talk to her later," he decided. Mia and Greg nodded in response. Grissom walked in, holding assignment slips.

"Nick, Greg, DB at the Tangiers, Mia, you and I have an apparent carjacking gone wrong," he said simply. Sara had passed away a long time ago, but he was just as closed off now as he was then. Nodding, they all stood silently, gathering their supplies for the day.

* * *

"So, what's up, Griss?" Mia asked, plucking a strand of hair from the carpet of the car. Grissom stood outside the car, camera in hand.

"What do you mean?" he replied, glancing sharply at her. She arched her eyebrows, shaking her head.

"Hey, looks don't work on me. I meant, how are you doing?"

"Fine."

"Liar."

"What?"

"You're lying. You've closed yourself off from the world ever since Sara died. Normally, I wouldn't care, but my therapist makes me talk, so now it's your turn."

"There's nothing to say."

"You're just stubborn."

"No, I just don't have anything to say."

"You would if I was Catherine." He looked up from the scene to her. Sensing his eyes on her, she looked back. "What? It's true." He shrugged. "I know you miss her." He remained silent, focusing on the scene again and giving her no indication he heard her. "She was your life, your heart, and now she's gone. And I'm sorry about that. I really am. But Grissom, it's been almost a year, and you're still not even talking to your friends. I don't expect you to talk to me, but at least talk to Nick, Warrick, Catherine, maybe even Greg."

"You're never one for talking," he said finally.

"Yeah, well, you made me go to therapy, so the game's changed a little," she told him. He nodded.

"You don't expect me to talk to you?"

"I'm not one of your friends."

"That would give me more reason, wouldn't it?" She shrugged.

"I guess I'm the closest thing to a stranger you can trust. But even then, you're still not talking to me."

"Because I have nothing to say."

"That's bullshit, and you know it. You just want to remain in your own corner. You know it's real, but if you talk, you're gonna hurt when you're trying to move on. You'll never forget her, and truly, no one wants you to. But you gotta give a little, let something out before it kills you completely." Grissom glared at her. "Metaphorically speaking. Relax. You have a soul and a spirit, and her death and you not talking about it is killing that soul and spirit." Grissom didn't say anything again, going back to the scene as his phone rang. He shrugged, picking it up and answering it.

"Grissom," he said into it. "What's going on, Nick?" Mia looked up at him quickly before finishing processing the backseat. "Okay, stay where you are, we'll come to you." More silence before Grissom nodded. "It's okay, Nick. It's going to be okay." They hung up shortly after that, and Mia turned back to Grissom.

"What's going on?" she asked softly, almost nervously.

"We need to go," he told her. "Greg's been kidnapped."


	2. Inherent Discoveries

A/N: I only own Mia, as always. Charlie is a uniform, who doesn't really exist. Everyone and everything else belongs to CSI and CBS and Guns and Roses. All Spanish in the chapter is translated at the bottom of the chapter. I'll try to be good about updating this regularly, but I make no guarantees because of school and work. Anyway, on with the story. :)

* * *

Chapter 1: Inherent Discoveries 

Grissom and Mia arrived at the Tangiers to find Nick outside with Brass, shocked at the happenings. Mia stormed over to the two of them. "How the fuck does he get kidnapped from a fucking casino?" she asked angrily. Grissom shook his head. Tact never was her thing.

"I don't know," Nick said sadly.

"Where the fuck were you?"

"Fourteenth floor," Brass said. "DB in Murder Central."

"Greg got kidnapped from Murder-fucking-Central?" she snapped.

"Mia, calm down," Grissom said. She cut a sharp glare his way. "We'll find him."

"What if we don't?" she asked insecurely. Grissom shook his head again.

"We will find him." She nodded, sighing softly.

"I already called in 'Rick and Catherine for you," Brass interjected. "And Ecklie's on his way."

"Oh, of course," Mia snapped. "I hate that fucking guy."

"We all do," Nick replied quietly.

"Nick, what happened?" Grissom asked.

"I had to go get more lifts from the Denali. There were two uniforms outside the room, one in with him. I came back upstairs, and the three uniforms were dead and Greg was gone."

"I've already alerted hotel security," Brass said. "We're getting the tapes now." Catherine and Warrick walked up to the scene, tired and with kits in hand. "That didn't take long."

"We were only sleeping," Warrick said.

"So, what's going on?" Catherine asked.

"Greg's been taken from the scene," Grissom told them. "This is top priority tonight."

"Got it. Let's head up to the scene before attention gets worse." The group nodded, and Nick threw his arm around Mia's shoulders.

"I'm really sorry," he said softly to her. She shook her head.

"For now, let's focus on getting Greg back," she told him. "You and I can wait." He nodded with a frown, keeping his arm around her as they walked up to the scene.

* * *

Greg groggily opened his eyes, feeling the bouncing underneath him. It didn't take him long to realize he was in a van. Where he was going or what he was doing there was proving to be more of a challenge. How he got there was another question entirely. He remembered hearing something outside while he was talking to Charlie, one of the uniforms. One minute, Charlie was saying something. The next, everything was silent. Greg had gone to turn around, or at least he thought he did. He vaguely remembered a cloth being forced over his mouth until he woke up in the van. 

A giant bump rattled him, causing him to realize that his numbed hands were bound behind his back and that the pain in his shoulder was due to his position. He groaned quietly, trying to move a little and failing miserably. Another big bump helped him move to his side, restoring blood flow to his arms somewhat. He wiggled his fingers as best he could, sighing softly as he continued to try to figure out where he was.

The van was moving pretty fast, he figured, which meant they were still probably on the initial run away from the scene. Either that, or they were on the highway. The more Greg thought, the more he realized it was probably the latter of the two. If you'd just kidnapped someone from a casino, why would you draw more attention to yourself as you left? Greg sighed softly, trying to clear his head and keep thinking.

The windows on the back of the van had been blacked out, causing him to wonder just what kind of van he was in. It looked like a rented van or company truck or something. He looked for an inside latch to the door, but couldn't find one. The only other person in the van seemed to be the driver, which made Greg wonder. Just who was holding him hostage, and why was there only one person with him?

* * *

Ecklie walked into the scene, standing in the doorway behind the tape. "How did this happen?" he asked calmly. Five heads snapped up from the scene to look at him. 

"I'm sorry!" Nick spouted off quickly.

"How did this happen?"

"I had to get more lifts from the truck. When I came back, they were dead and Greg was gone." Ecklie nodded, silent. "I'm sorry."

"Let's focus on getting him back. No one's in trouble here." Ecklie looked over at Mia, who was crouching over Charlie's body. He sighed softly. "Grissom, can we talk for a minute?" Grissom nodded, standing from his crouch and walking away.

"What do you think that's about?" Catherine asked. Nick and Warrick shrugged while Mia remained silent, working on the body. The other three glanced at her before looking back at the scene and getting back to work.

* * *

"How's she doing?" Ecklie asked, glancing back in the room. 

"Who, Mia?" Grissom replied. Ecklie nodded. "I don't know. She was angry, but I'm pretty sure she's not anymore. I think she's just scared and worried." Ecklie nodded again. "Why are you asking?"

"Do you think she's stable enough to work this case?"

"She'll be fine. She's good about putting her problems and emotions aside to get the job done." Ecklie nodded again, glancing back in at her.

"I hope so. It's bad enough Sanders is missing. We don't need her going off the deep end too."

* * *

As the group finished processing, Nick walked over to Mia. "Mia?" he said softly. She looked up at him slowly. "Lo siento." She shrugged, looking back down. 

"No preocupe," she told him. "Está bien." He nodded, putting his hand on her shoulder.

"¿Estás terminado?"

"Sí."

"Venga con nosotros. Estamos llevando ahora." She nodded, quiet. "¿Tú estás bien?"

"No sé."

"Recuperaremos."

"Sí, yo sé."

"El estará bien."

"Yo sé." Nick nodded slowly, and she finally looked up at him again. "¿Pero, qué si no está?"

"Nosotros lo cuidaremos de."

"¿Qué si podemos no?"

"No sucederá." She nodded slowly.

"Grissom y Ecklie fueron hablando sobre mí.," she said. Nick arched his eyebrows.

"¿De veras?"

"Sí."

"¿Por qué?"

"Ecklie quiso estar seguro que podría trabajar el caso."

"¿Por qué?"

"'El no quiere que mí yéndome el lo hondo.'" Mia provided the air quotes, and Nick shook his head as he helped her stand. "Quiero patearlo en el escroto." Nick laughed.

"¿No eres todavía en la libertad condicional?"

"No. Fue sólo por seis meses."

"Agradable. ¿Así que quieres ser despedido?"

"No, pero le odio." He shrugged.

"Mejor él que yo." She laughed softly.

"¿Quién habla no te odio?"

"Tú."

"¿De veras?"

"Sí."

"¿Cómo figuras?"

"Porque no gritas en mí."

"No es tu defecto." He shrugged.

"Yo siento mal," he said as they reached the Denali.

"No. Si estuviste allí, estarías muerto."

"¿Cómo figures?"

"Pienso que este tipo fue específicamente después de Greg."

"¿Por qué?"

"El esperó hasta que dejaras. El escogió su tiempo de golpear. Además, pienso que la escena inicial fue preparada, para atraerle probablemente dos. El le siguió tipos y atacó."

"¿Por qué él?"

"No sé, Nick." She climbed into his car, riding with him back to the lab.

"How are you, really?" he asked softly. She shrugged.

"Same as you," she replied. "Worried, scared. Only, I don't have the hope you do. I'm not as optimistic. I've seen mundane situations go sour. Hostages get killed, even though the perp was with us in negotiations. Women get raped because a guy had nothing better to do. Kidnap victims tortured into shame, hatred, fear. All for no reason. Children killed because one spouse hated the other. People getting shot just for walking down the street. You think Vegas is sick and depraved? Think about L.A."

"Yeah."

"You lose all hope in mankind. All hope for living. Especially when your home life matches."

"So, your life sucked out there?" She shrugged.

"Depends on the part you're asking about. I had decent friends. Just my love life." She paused, thinking. Nick chuckled.

"Why are you telling me all this?" he asked. She shrugged.

"I don't know. My therapist makes me talk. I guess that translates over to you."

"Whatever works." She nodded, saying nothing. Nick continued to watch her out of the corner of his eye as he drove. "I'm really sorry, Mia."

"It's not your fault, and if you keep apologizing, I'm going to hit you." He nodded, falling silent as they rode back to the lab.

* * *

"Where are Nick and Mia?" Catherine asked. 

"I think they're heading back here together," Warrick said.

"He's dead."

"What makes you say that?"

"Come on. You know that she's gonna kill him for that."

"She knows it's not his fault."

"She's insane, and in love with Greg. There's no way Nicky's getting off easy."

"Wow, you're still a bitch when our numbers are down," Mia snarled as she walked in. Nick followed her quietly while Catherine said nothing. Grissom walked in and looked at his employees.

"We have to stick together on this," he told them. "We can't have arguments and issues. So put everything aside, for Greg's sake." Everyone nodded. "So, where are we?"

"QD has the note," Nick began. "And they're tryin' for a handwritin' profile or somethin'. Note never specified a ransom, and appeared to possibly be directed at someone, but who is the question." He put the memory card from his camera into the system, uploading the photos as Mia began to speak.

"Blood is in DNA, Bobby has the bullet casings and the bullet from the wall," she said.

"Archie has surveillance from the casino," Warrick said.

"Here's the note," Nick interjected. Everyone snapped their attention to the screen. "Now and then, when I see her face, she takes me away to that special place. And if I stare too long, I'd probably break down and cry."

"Why does that sound familiar?"

"I don't know," Catherine said. The group looked at one another, confused. After a while, something clicks in Nick's head.

"Oh, I got it!" he said. Everyone looked at him. "It's lyrics from a song. 'Sweet Child O' Mine."

"So, our target is someone's child?" Warrick asked.

"It's a thought," Grissom said. Mia sat down, putting her head down.

"Fucking toying with us," she muttered under her breath. Nick put his hand on her shoulder, and she looked up at him, annoyed. He squeezed her shoulder gently, and she sighed.

"It still doesn't answer who," Catherine said. "Who did it and who are they targeting?"

"And why are they using Greg to get to them?"

* * *

A/N2: Translations:  
"I'm sorry." 

"Don't worry. It's okay."

"Are you finished?"

"Yes."

"Come with us. We're leaving now. Are you okay?"

"I don't know."

"We'll get him back."

"Yeah, I know."

"He'll be okay."

"I know. But, what if he's not?"

"We'll take care of him."

"What if we can't?"

"Not gonna happen."

"Grissom and Ecklie were talking about me."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Ecklie wanted to be sure I could work the case."

"Why?"

"'He didn't want me to go off the deep end.' I wanted to kick him in the scrotum."

"Aren't you still on probation?"

"No. That was only for six months."

"Nice. So, you want to get fired?"

"No, but I hate him."

"Better him than me."

"Who says I don't hate you?"

"You."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"How do you figure?"

"Because you're not yelling at me."

"It's not your fault."

"I feel bad."

"Don't. If you were there, you'd be dead."

"How do you figure?"

"I think this guy was specifically after Greg."

"Why?"

"He waited until you left. He chose his time to strike. Plus, I think the initial scene was staged, probably to attract you two. He followed you guys and attacked."

"Why him?"

"I don't know, Nick."


	3. Torture Me

A/N: I apologize for the lacking update on this, but I'm in a rough spot right now, so I'm trying to get back. Anyway, I don't own CSI, CBS, or anyone but Stewart Jacobson and Mia Salvatori. I hope you guys enjoy the chapter and please, please review. If you're reading it, please let me know. It keeps me encouraged.

* * *

Chapter 2: 'Torture Me,' and Say Hello

Sweat beaded across his forehead as he sat still, keeping his eyes closed. The room was hot, hotter than he ever thought possible in the desert. But he knew it had to do with positioning within the building more than actual heating of the room. He wiggled his hands from their position behind his back, feeling the sweat work its way into the articulations of the handcuffs. He was drenched in his own sweat.

He tried to take a deep breath, but his dry lungs and ribs fought against him. He would sweat all day, and freeze all night. And as of yet, he had not been given any water that he knew of, but he'd only been there for one day. He could tell by the one sunrise/sunset he'd seen. He forced himself not to think about how thirsty or hungry he was for a few minutes as he opened his eyes and tried again to figure out his location.

The sun shone in directly in the morning, so he was certain his window faced the east. The extreme heat of the day, coupled with the freezing at night, made him think he was in the middle of the desert. He couldn't see anything out the window more than sky and sand in a distance, without any unique attributes, so nothing to give him an actual location. Occasionally he heard tractor-trailer trucks driving by, and he knew they weren't far from a street, but no one knew he was there. No one yet, anyway.

He was handcuffed to a chair in the center of the room, and the chair was bolted to the floor. The cuffs were locked just tight enough to keep him in place, but not tight enough to cut off circulation or cut into him. His ankles were shackled to the bottom of the chair, keeping him locked in place even if he had managed to get his arms out. He was still in the clothes he had worn at the crime scene, covered in dirt, blood, and sweat. He didn't know where he'd been as of yet, and he wasn't sure he'd find out, either.

The door creaked open slowly, and an older man stepped inside. He smiled at Greg, who looked shocked to see another human being. He had begun to make friends with the dirt piles on the floor. "Good morning, Mr. Sanders," the man said.

"Morning?" Greg asked, confused. The man didn't seem to answer his questioning look as he produced a bottle of water. He poured some into Greg's mouth, and Greg swallowed it quickly. "Who are you?"

"Stewart Jacobson," he answered quietly.

"Where am I?"

"Come on, Gregory. You're a good CSI. I'm sure you've put together some clues." Greg shrugged as more water was poured into his mouth. "I ain't about to give you a serious answer anyway. You can't get out of here, so you might as well get that idea out of your head, too."

"What do you want with me?"

"You'll find out a lot more later, Gregory. For now, suffice it to say that you're about to become part of an experiment."

"I don't consent."

"You don't have a choice."

* * *

Nick walked into the break room, finding Mia slumped over the table. He stopped, looking at her sleeping form. He shook his head, knowing she'd hate him for it, but he had to do it anyway. He gently put his hand on her shoulder. "Mia?" he asked.

"Huh?" she replied, waking up.

"You fell asleep in the break room." She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes and stretching.

"I'm sorry."

"It's fine. You alright?"

"Yeah, just tired. I honestly can't find anyone that would want to kidnap Greg. I've been through all of his case files, and everyone he's ever put away is still away. He hasn't been at this game long enough for the first one to come back."

"Yeah, I know. I had a feeling that might be a dead end."

"S.O.P., though." She yawned, and Nick placed a cup of coffee in front of her. "Thanks."

"No problem. Now, you know him better than anyone. He have any enemies? Anyone around his house pissed at him? Disgruntled exes or family?"

"Not that I know of, but I don't know his history like you guys do."

"Any letters, hate mail recently?"

"Not for him."

"For you?" She shrugged.

"Comes with the territory." Judy walked in quickly.

"Mia?" she asked. Mia looked up at her.

"What's up, Judy?" she replied.

"There's someone at the desk to see you. A Stewart Jacobson. He says it's really important." Mia looked at Nick, who shrugged.

"Okay." Mia and Nick walked out of the break room and over to Stewart. "Mr. Jacobson? I'm Mia Salvatori, and this is Nick Stokes. What can I do for you?"

"I have something to tell you, Miss Salvatori."

"Spill it." Nick arched his eyebrows at her, confused. She glanced over at him, shrugging.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but… I'm your father, Mia." Her mouth dropped along with Nick's.

"You're fucking out of your mind." Nick grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Where the fuck did you come up with that shit?"

"Your mother? Juliana Salvatori?"

"How do you know who my mother is? Is this some sick fucking joke?"

"I had sex with your mother."

"So did half of L.A., but that doesn't make you my father." Nick looked at Mia, confused. Mia met his gaze with a shrug.

"Mia, please." She snapped her head to him.

"Mr. Jacobson, I'm a scientist. I don't fucking believe anything without evidence to back it up. So, in theory, you think you're my father. Fucking prove it."

"I'll take a paternity test for you, with you, however the heck you want to do it, honey. I'll do it to prove that you're my daughter. Whatever it takes." Mia looked at Nick again, who shrugged.

"Fine."

* * *

"He's not lying to you," the woman said, smiling. "He's your father." Mia looked over at Nick, shaking her head.

"Why's he trying to get in my life now?" Mia asked him.

"I don't know, hon," Nick said, shrugging.

"Well, thanks for being here."

"No problem." Mia thanked the woman before leaving.

"So, my father wants back into my life. How did he find me?" Nick shrugged as they climbed into the Denali. "And why now? What does he want with me?"

"I don't know, Mia." Her cell phone rang.

"Salvatori," she answered.

"Mia, it's Grissom. Where are you? And Nick, for that matter?"

"We're on lunch together. I promise, we're working the case."

"I don't doubt it. You okay?"

"Fine. We'll talk later."

"Okay." She hung up.

"Grissom?" Nick asked. Mia nodded. "You think this relates to the case?"

"I don't know what to think, Nick," she replied. "I mean, the timing does seem weird, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"I mean, he had to know he had a daughter somewhere."

"Did your mother ever tell you about him?" She shrugged.

"Just that he was an insensitive asshole. Left after finding out my mom was pregnant with me." Nick nodded.

"Ever have a reason to doubt your mom?"

"She died when I was eight. I wasn't questioning her yet." Nick nodded again.

"I'm sorry." Mia arched her eyebrows.

"Sorry? For what?"

"Sorry to hear about it." Mia shrugged.

"That was 19 years ago, Nicky," she said. "Doesn't matter anymore."

"Still," he said. "It was your mom."

"It's in the past. Can we please drop this?"

"You're the one that thinks your father may be linked to this case."

"And you don't?" Nick shrugged. "Come on."

"I don't know, Mia. Yeah, it seems fishy, and he must've known you and your name."

"So, it wouldn't be hard to know I'm with Greg."

"Why would your father have something against you or Greg?"

"I don't know, Nick. I don't know."

* * *

Greg looked up as he heard the door of his chamber open once again. Stewart walked in, looking at him sadistically. "You mind telling me a few things?" Greg asked.

"Maybe," Stewart replied, producing a whip.

"You told me your name. You keep showing me your face. You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Stewart whipped him.

"Maybe."

"You're either going to kill me, or you're trying to make a statement. Which is it?"

"What's the fun in telling you?" Stewart asked as he whipped him again, drawing blood.

"Is this all just a bunch of riddles?" Stewart paused.

"You tell me, CSI Sanders."

"Have I done something to you? I mean, I know I got enemies all over the place."

"No, you haven't done something to me." Stewart whipped him again.

"So, what's the purpose of this?"

"Everything in due time, Gregory." Stewart whipped him a final time.

"What do you want with me? Please, just tell me. What do you want with me?"

"Everything in due time, Gregory," Stewart repeated, turning his back to Greg and walking out of the room, leaving Greg alone yet again to contemplate what would happen next.

* * *

"We're nowhere," Mia said as she and Grissom were leaving.

"We have some leads," Grissom replied.

"A cryptic note, coupled with untraceable fingerprints and unusable DNA do not constitute real leads, Griss. We have nothing."

"We know he faked the crime scene. We have bullets from a gun, we have casings."

"The bullets haven't turned up anything yet." Grissom sighed.

"I want to find him as much as you do."

"We have three dead officers."

"One with a knife, two shot. More than likely, he knifed the first and stole the gun from him to shoot the other two. When we find his gun, we will find our kidnapper."

"Mia?" Stewart called out across the parking lot. Mia sighed, looking toward him.

"Haven't you had enough today?" she snapped at him. Grissom arched his eyebrows.

"Look, by now you've gotten the results."

"Yeah, I did, okay? Congratulations, you were right. Now, what the fuck do you want from me?"

"I need money." She sighed.

"Of course you do. How much?"

"Three thousand dollars." She sighed, and Grissom watched her.

"Will you leave me alone if I pay you?"

"I'm your father. I'm not going anywhere. In fact, I'll pay you back. It's just a loan, until I get a job and get back on my feet." Mia sighed again, more annoyed than before.

"What do you need the money for?"

"To get a place to live." She sighed, opening her pocketbook.

"Fine." She took out her checkbook, writing him a check, much to Grissom's surprise.

"Thanks, Mia. I promise, I'll pay you back."

"Fine." He walked away, and Grissom looked at her. "What?" she asked him.

"What was that about?" he replied. She sighed, almost in insecurity.

"He… showed up at the lab earlier. Claimed he was my father. So, I went to an outside lab and had them run a paternity test. Got the results on my lunch break, with Nick. He is who he says he is."

"But, your mother…"

"Mom never mentioned him more than calling him an asshole. Look, I already have my suspicions about him."

"So, you paid him…"

"I don't know, Griss."

"Be careful, Mia. You don't even know this man."

"Yeah, I know. But, by giving him a check, we can track him." Grissom shook his head. "It's a little odd that he chose now to try to get in touch with me, after Greg goes missing. I mean, we could always run his DNA against what we found at the scene, but other than a strange feeling, I have no reason to believe he has anything to do with Greg's disappearance."

"Feelings don't hold up in court. You know that."

"I know. I can't help it though, Griss. Something's not right about this. If I appease him, maybe, if he is involved, he'll help us out, give us something." Grissom shrugged, looking out across the parking lot in the direction Stewart retreated in.

"Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer."


	4. Teach Me, and Catch Me

A/N: I still don't own CSI, CBS, or any known entity. Mia and Stewart are, in fact, mine. I'm pretty sure I've mentioned before that this has Greg getting tortured, but I felt it needed to be restated. I hope you guys are enjoying the story, and if you are, please drop me a review. Even if you're not, please review.

* * *

Chapter 3: Teach Me, and Catch Me

Darkness. Frigid darkness. Eyes opened or closed, nothing changed. It was still cold, and still dark. The moon failed to shine into the window, leaving the room darker than Greg could ever imagine. He was shivering, feeling the metal of the cuffs freezing against his goose-bumped flesh. In the day's heat, the metal heated up. They never got hot enough to burn him, but offered him no relief all the same. In the night's cold, he shivered.

The thing that got him more than the hot/cold was the silence. There was no sound in the room as he sat still, and the door and walls was too thick to hear anything from the other sides. There was little to no wind, and no traffic tonight. He sat in the silence, shivering and thinking, as he had nothing else to do.

"Everything in due time, Gregory." The words reverberated in his head as they had for the past few hours. Nothing made sense right now. For some reason, he didn't think that Stewart Jacobson was going to kill him. Stewart had a plan for him, but Greg could not figure out what it was.

_Creak._ The door opened slowly, and Greg remained frozen. There was only one person it could be, so he wasn't guessing who was walking into the room. Stewart smiled evilly as he poked his head through the crack in the door. "Hello, Gregory," he said.

"Is this your version of 'Silence of the Lambs'?" Greg replied. Stewart chuckled.

"Of course not."

"What is this all about?"

"It's time for you to learn, Gregory."

"Learn what?" Stewart walked through the door with a bucket of charcoal. "Gonna make me dirty? I'm already disgusting."

"You have quite the mouth on you, you know that?" Greg shrugged. "Learning way too much from that girlfriend of yours." Greg's eyes narrowed

"How do you know about her?"

"I don't just know _about_ her, Gregory. I _know_ her."

"How…?"

"Time for a few little lessons, Gregory." Stewart pulled a matchbook out of his pocket, lighting one and holding it in front of his face briefly. Greg looked at him, noticing the scars extending across his face.

"Lessons about what?" Greg asked quietly.

"Life, love, your girlfriend," Stewart replied, dropping the match into the bucket of charcoal. Greg furrowed his eyebrows in confusion.

"What does Mia have to do with anything?"

"She's the whole reason you're here, Gregory. She hired me to do this." Greg shook his head.

"I don't believe that. She loves me."

"Does she? Then, how do you explain this?" Stewart showed Greg the check Mia wrote.

"Three thousand dollars?"

"You don't mean anything to her." Greg shook his head.

"You don't know what you're talking about. That's not hers."

"Came from her book." Greg sighed.

"She'd never do this."

"Face it, Gregory. You don't know her. You've known her for a year, tops. You know nothing about her."

"And you know so much, huh? You've never been in her life, at all."

"I've seen enough, Gregory. I've been watching her from the sidelines."

"You mean, you've been stalking her." Stewart shook his head, producing a set of tongs from his pocket. He leaned over the bucket of charcoal, picking up a piece. "Why?"

"Juliana wouldn't let me have a part in my daughter's life."

"Is that why you killed her?" Stewart laughed.

"Maybe you need to read over that case file a little closer, Gregory. It was an accident."

"It was a hit and run. Other driver was never caught." Stewart shrugged.

"I didn't kill her." Greg shrugged.

"But you've kidnapped me, and insist on torturing me." Stewart shrugged again, walking over to Greg with the glowing piece of charcoal. "Why?"

"I'm not torturing you. I'm teaching you. Stay away from Mia, unless you want to get hurt. She uses men."

"You're a liar." Stewart dropped the piece of charcoal onto Greg's lap, delighting as Greg shrieked in pain. He pulled the charcoal off before it turned Greg's clothes into a pile of flames.

"I'm not lying. How much of her past has she told you? Did she tell you about how she murdered her ex-boyfriend in college? How she used another to score her alcohol? She's manipulative, conniving, and will stop at nothing to get what she wants. The sooner you learn this, Gregory, the better for you. I'll stop at nothing to teach you, Gregory."

"Why do you care?" Stewart laughed.

"She's close to you, Gregory."

"So, you want to ruin her life? This is all about her?"

"Funny, isn't it? The one you think loves you is the reason you're here."

"If it's about her, why keep me?"

"This is an intervention, Gregory." Stewart pressed the burning charcoal to Greg's shoulder, causing him to scream. "This is all her fault. When you believe that, then you'll be free to go. She's the reason you're being tortured. She's no good for you." He pulled the charcoal away, and Greg gasped to catch his breath. "If you don't believe me, I'll prove it to you."

"How?" Greg breathed.

"She's going to leave you," Stewart said. "She's going to suck the life out of you, first, and then she'll leave you high and dry with nothing. She lies, cheats, and steals from everyone she's ever been with. You have so much to learn, Gregory." Stewart dropped the charcoal onto Greg's crotch, causing him to howl before pulling it away quickly. "So much to learn."

* * *

"Another note," Nick said, walking into the break room. Grissom, Warrick, Catherine, and Mia snapped to look at him.

"What's it say?" Warrick asked.

"'I guess I've grown tired. It's just what's expected of me, to tear your heart from the inside to the outside. You know, I was wired. I just couldn't help it the hundred thousand times I hurt you.'" The group looked at one another.

"Another song?" Catherine asked.

"Yeah," Mia said. "It's called 'Dear Joan,' and it's by a band called Tabitha's Secret."

"Who are they?" Nick asked.

"Predecessors to Matchbox Twenty. Three of them went on to form the second band."

"How do you know that?" Catherine asked.

"They're one of my sister's favorite bands," Mia replied. "She never shuts up about how great they are. Rather annoying, if you ask me."

"So, what does this mean?"

"I don't know."

"Broken heart?" Catherine asked. "Or, someone who's broken hundreds of hearts."

"That's definitely not Greg," Mia said.

"The target? The kidnapper had his heart broken?"

"I don't know," Grissom chimed in. "I think this is more of an explanation."

"I don't follow you," Catherine said.

"Our kidnapper's doing exactly what he thought he would. He's hurting someone, the target, more than likely. His child. He's using Greg to do it, and he's hurting them in more ways than just possessing Greg. It's almost like it's a show of remorse."

"But, we still haven't figured out who the target is," Nick said as Wendy walked in.

"Okay, so remember when I said that DNA wasn't going to help?" she said. "I lied. Still no match, but we do have a profile. Male, approximately 50 years old, brown hair, brown eyes. That's not much to go by, but at least it gives you something."

"Thanks, Wendy," Catherine said as Ronnie walked in.

"Sorry this took so long," he said. "So, according to this note, we have an older man, high school education."

"And apparently, an audiophile," Warrick interrupted. Ronnie looked at him sharply. "Sorry."

"It's alright. So, our guy's also right handed. Stressed, angry, and borderline psychotic."

"Only borderline? He kidnapped Greg."

"He's cold and calculating. Not crazy. He knows what he's doing, and he has a reason to do it." Mia sighed.

"Great," she mumbled. "So, whoever has Greg is executing some kind of plan, and only God knows why."

"He's leaving us all these clues," Grissom said. "He wants to get caught. He'd prefer it. He wants us to know why he's doing what he's doing. That's why he keeps pointing at himself. He wants us to know there's a reason."

* * *

Stewart walked back into Greg's room, smiling. "Every time you walked in, you're smiling," Greg said.

"Keen observation, Gregory," Stewart replied.

"What are you going to do this time?"

"We're going to have a little chat, okay?" Greg's eyes darted all over Stewart's form as he squatted in front of Greg. "Nothing funny, just two guys talking."

"I don't trust you."

"I'm the person you should trust, Gregory. I'm not going to kill you. I have no intention to kill you. If you die, it's an accident."

"It's homicide because I'm here against my will."

"Legally, yes. But in the way that matters here, no. I don't plan on killing you."

"I'm supposed to believe you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"When have I lied to you?"

"When have you told me the truth?"

"When haven't I?"

"When you're talking about Mia."

"I'm not lying, Gregory. If you want, I can show you the proof. She killed that man. She's cheated on countless others. She's going to do the same thing to you."

"No, she's not."

"Why do you think she hasn't slept with you, Gregory? She doesn't love you. If she did, she'd have no problem fucking you."

"She's in emotional turmoil following a traumatic experience where she was molested and almost raped."

"She'd still sleep with you. You're not Hodges." Greg shook his head, and Stewart slapped him. "Listen to me, Gregory. She doesn't love you. She's only with you because she knows she can manipulate you."

"I don't think so."

"But you're not sure anymore, are you?" Greg shook his head.

"You're wrong." Stewart chuckled, shaking his head.

"You'll learn, Gregory. I'll prove it to you." Stewart stood up, walking out of the room and leaving Greg alone. Greg sighed softly, thinking he was free for a while, until Stewart walked back in, holding a book.

"What's that?" Greg asked nervously.

"Relax, I'm not going to hit you with it," Stewart told him.

"Not yet, anyway."

"Shut up and listen. This book has all you need to know about Mia. Her exes, her cases, her life. We're going to go through this, page by page, until you believe it." Greg sighed.

"And if I don't want to?"

"You have no choice, Gregory. Whatever made you think you did?"

"Why do you want me to believe you?"

"Because it's the only way to save you."

"Why do you care?"

"She needs to be stopped, before she hurts anyone else. I'm doing you a favor, Gregory."

"I don't understand."

"She's the cause of all of this. She's a manipulative murderer. I'm trying to stop her before she strikes again. Before she hurts someone else. I'm not letting her do this again."


	5. Solve Me, and Recover Me

A/N: Sorry it's been so long between updates, but I've been really busy. Anyway, I don't own CSI, CBS, or any other known entity. Don't hate me for the ending of this chapter... haha. That's my only warning. Enjoy, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter 4: Solve Me, and Recover Me

The door creaked open, and Greg sighed, knowing who was coming in. Stewart walked in, same stupid smile on his face that he had every time he walked in. Greg watched him cautiously as he strode across the room. "It's almost time, Gregory," he said, attaching a wire to Greg's ankle shackles. Greg furrowed his brows.

"Almost time for what?" he asked. Seconds later, he had his answer after Stewart attached another wire, this time to the handcuffs. Greg convulsed as an electrical current ripped through his body, rendering him unconscious in a matter of moments.

* * *

"So, we have a seemingly remorseful kidnapper," Mia said softly.

"Male kidnapper means father," Warrick said.

"Target's his child," Catherine said.

"And he's using Greg to get back at them," Grissom said.

"Target one of us?" Nick asked. Everyone stopped and looked at him.

"What?" Mia asked. "Where the hell'd you pick that one from?"

"Think about it. Greg's one of us, we're a family here. Easiest way to hurt any of us is to kidnap one of us." Everyone fell silent for a moment, before Mia spoke again.

"But why Greg out of us? More people hate me. Cops, crims, techs, I'm an equal opportunity offender. It'd be a helluva lot easier and you'd get more accomplished that way." Catherine chuckled softly, and Mia cast her a sharp glare.

"That's just it," Warrick said, explaining. "I mean, no offense, but in the outside world, it looks like we don't have much of a connection to you." Mia shrugged, not offended.

"Can't deny that," she muttered. "So, which one of us are they after?"

"Greg and Nick are the only ones with living fathers that we know of." Nick furrowed his eyebrows, thinking.

"And I don't see either of them doing it. A father wouldn't kidnap his own son."

"And Judge Stokes definitely wouldn't do that." Nick arched his eyebrows, shaking his head.

"Not after what he lived through with Nick," Catherine added, giving Nick a sad frown. He smiled slightly, nodding.

"So, who's the target?" Mia asked. "A lab tech?"

"Wendy? Archie? Mandy? Henry? Bobby?"

"Wendy's father's dead. I went to the funeral in college." Catherine arched her eyebrows.

"You and Wendy went to college together?" Mia chuckled bitterly.

"Yeah, so?"

"Nothing. I had no idea." Mia shrugged, tossing the comment to the side.

"I don't think it'd be Bobby's father," Warrick said. "They haven't talked in years, you know?"

"Archie talks to his father all the time," Catherine said.

"Yeah, because Archie loves his father," Mia said. "And vice versa. So, he's out, which leaves Mandy and Henry."

"Henry's father divorced his mother when he was a kid," Warrick said. "Father then became deadbeat dad."

"Viable suspect."

"Not possible," Grissom said, causing everyone to look his way. "His father died two weeks ago." The group frowned.

"That's why he's out right now," Warrick said. Grissom nodded. "Damn."

"And Mandy's father's out of the country," Catherine said. Mia sighed softly.

"So, who's left?" she asked.

"We're missing something," Grissom said. Everyone sighed, looking at the evidence before them and one another. After a few moments, Nick gasped suddenly in realization, causing everyone to look at him.

"We're not missing something," Nick said. "We're missing someone. When we rattled off who has living fathers."

"Who?" Warrick asked. "Griss and Cath don't. I don't have one that I know of. Mia…"

"Mia's father just came into the picture a few days ago." Catherine and Warrick looked on in confusion as Mia's eyes widened and she gasped.

"Shit, he's right," Mia said. Grissom watched cautiously, and Nick looked over at her.

"You said that it was weird timing, right?" he asked. She nodded. "He had to have found out about your relationship with Greg, and chose him because of that. He's using Greg to get to you."

"Yeah, but why use him? You wanna get me, just do it. He's already made contact, talked to me. If he wanted to hurt me, why didn't he just go right for me instead of taking Greg?"

"Yeah, but you don't value your own life. You value everyone else's. The best way to hurt you is to hurt those around you."

"Yeah, but how would he know? He knows nothing about me. I honestly never met the man before the other day."

"Maybe he's been stalking you."

"Well, that's just fucking creepy."

"It's not hard," Warrick said. "Read a newspaper 'round here. All the time, shows you sticking up for someone around you, to the extent where you could get killed." Mia shrugged.

"Wait, I don't understand," Catherine said. "I thought your father was dead."

"My mother and my stepfather are dead," Mia explained. "My father was non-existent until a few days ago."

"Before or after Greg disappeared?"

"After… Shit, I should've known he was involved! Fuck, man!"

"Relax, Mia, we don't know that for sure," Grissom said.

"Well, I got a way to find out," she said, storming off.

* * *

"Well, I got some good news, and some bad news," Wendy told the five assembled CSIs later. "Good news is, we have a match. Bad news is…"

"Seven alleles in common with me?" Mia asked. Wendy nodded. "That's okay. I kind of expected that." She turned to Catherine, Nick, Warrick, and Grissom. "So, now what?"

"We call Brass, tell him we're looking for Stewart Jacobson," Nick said. Brass walked into the lab.

"Glad we have a suspect," he told them.

"What brings you by?" Grissom asked.

"I just got a call about a body out near McCarran Airport. Matches Greg's description."


	6. Save Me, Part 1

A/N: I know, I'm evil for waiting this long to update. My apologies. I've been wicked busy lately with school and such. Anyway, here's the next installment. As always, I only own Mia and Stewart. The rest belong to CSI and CBS. Enjoy, and please review.

* * *

Chapter 5: Save Me, Part 1

The team rushed into the scene, finding the paramedics working on Greg. "He's still alive," a uniform told them. They breathed a collective sigh as they watched the EMTs load Greg onto a stretcher, preparing him for transport to the hospital. The group looked at one another before turning to Vega, who was at the scene.

"Passerby called it in," he told them. "Saw him laying there, didn't think to check for a pulse." Mia put her head down, sighing. Grissom watched her out of the corner of his eye.

"Mia, Nick, you guys go to the hospital," Grissom said. "Keep us up to date on his condition, as well as process him. His kidnapper's still out there." The two of them nodded, jumping in an SUV and leaving. Grissom turned to Catherine and Warrick.

"I'll take perimeter," Warrick said quickly, walking away. Catherine and Grissom looked at one another, sighing before setting about their work.

* * *

Mia sighed, closing her eyes as she sat in the front seat next to Nick. "What're you thinkin' about?" he asked softly.

"God, I hope he's alive," she replied.

"Paramedics said he was." She looked at him sharply. "What? You don't trust paramedics?" She shook her head, chuckling.

"Not since the first one I dated." He arched his eyebrows, looking at her. "I just said way too much, didn't I?"

"Not really."

"It was college, I was stupid, can we change subjects?"

"I never said you had to continue." She nodded, sighing again.

"I just… want him to be okay."

"We all do, Mia." She looked over at him, seeing the serious look on his face as he kept driving.

"Yeah, I know. You're right. We're family." Nick looked at her, catching her eyes. "Family sticks together, loves one another… mostly." Nick chuckled.

"You make it tough." She looked out the window again.

"Sorry."

"Mia, you know you never need to apologize for being you. We're used to it by now."

"You guys still hate me."

"No one hates you. Will you quit it?"

"Sorry." They pulled into the parking lot of the hospital, and Mia jumped out before Nick had completely stopped the car. She ran inside, barreling through anyone in her way as she went to the information desk. "Hi," she told the woman at the desk. "My name is Mia Salvatori, I'm here for Greg Sanders."

"What's your relationship to him?" she replied, smiling politely.

"I'm his girlfriend." Nick walked up to her, resting his hand on her shoulder.

"More importantly, we're both from the Crime Lab," he said to the woman at the desk. "Nick Stokes." Mia glanced over at him, and he smiled. "We're here to process Greg when we get the chance."

"Crime Lab? As in, his place of employment?"

"Yes ma'am." She nodded, hitting a few keys on the computer.

"Mr. Sanders is upstairs resting right now, in room 536. Appears he was electrocuted, dehydrated, beaten, and burned. He'll be okay, has to stay overnight at least for observation."

"Okay, thank you." Nick and Mia left, walking upstairs. She sighed softly.

"Something about this doesn't feel right, Nick," she whispered.

"Never does when it's your friend that's the victim," he replied. He looked over at her, concerned. "You gonna be okay to do this?"

"Nick, if my father really did this…"

"Don't think about that right now." She sighed, looking over at him. "Don't focus on him. Focus on Greg. He's gonna need you more right now." She nodded. "You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." They walked into Greg's room, finding the lights off. Greg was asleep, his body stretched out under the thin blankets. An IV drained a bag steadily into his left wrist. Nick looked over at Mia, who was standing in place.

"He's alive, Mia," Nick whispered. She looked over at him before looking back at Greg.

"Alive physically, but God only knows what happened to him emotionally."

"He'll be fine." She shrugged.

"Time'll tell."

* * *

Processing done, Nick and Mia met up with the group at the lab. "How is he?" Catherine asked, concerned.

"He slept the entire time we were there," Nick told her.

"You didn't try to talk to him?"

"He needs the rest. He was beaten, dehydrated, burned-"

"And, if that wasn't enough, he was electrocuted too," Mia jumped in. Catherine and Warrick sighed as Grissom watched her closely.

"Docs say he'll be alright," Nick continued. "They're keeping him for now, but he should be fine."

"Thank God," Catherine said. Mia raised her eyebrows and dropped them quickly as she shrugged. Nick patted her shoulder gently, and she gave him a glare.

"Okay, so let's go with what we know," Grissom said.

"We know we need to find Stewart Jacobson," Mia said.

"Brass is working on it." Mia shook her head.

"Excuse me for a moment." She walked out of the layout room, storming into the locker room. The four remaining CSIs looked at one another.

"Should, uh, someone go follow her?" Catherine asked them.

"I volunteer Nick," Warrick said. Nick looked at him, confused. "You two have been tight for the past couple days."

"So?" Nick asked. "You think that's gonna last long?"

"Yeah."

"No. I think Grissom should go."

"Maybe we should send Wendy. They're friends."

"Maybe we shouldn't worry about her. She'll be fine." Warrick and Catherine exchanged glances. "Let's get back to the case."

"We know who did it," Catherine said. "It's just a matter of getting him in here and keeping her together."

"She's gonna be fine," Nick said. "Don't worry about her."

"Can't help it. Nick, think about it. Your girlfriend gets kidnapped and tortured, and your father did it. Would you be okay?"

"Eventually, yeah. But I'd also need my space." Grissom walked out of the room, heading to the locker room. He found Mia sitting on the bench with her head in her locker, and Wendy sitting beside her, rubbing her back softly. Wendy looked up and nodded at Grissom with a sad smile. Grissom gestured at Mia, and Wendy nodded again, turning to her.

"Hey, I gotta get back to the lab," she said softly. Mia nodded in response. "Hang in there." Mia nodded again, and Wendy patted her back before standing and walking away. Grissom walked over and sat in the spot vacated by Wendy.

"I haven't broken anything," Mia told him softly. He could hear the tears in her voice.

"I know," he replied gently.

"Why are you here?"

"Because you shouldn't be alone right now."

"I'm not going to kill myself in the lab. I'm not…" Her voice trailed off, causing her to sniffle sharply and shake her head. Grissom gently put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it slightly. "I should've taken myself off this case. I was so worried about finding him, though, that I couldn't help it. I had to do it. But, I wish I didn't know."

"You would've found out anyway."

"Not necessarily." She sniffled again, shaking her head. "Actually, you're right. I'm just not thinking right now."

"Understandable."

"How could he, Grissom?" She looked over at him, and he shrugged.

"I don't have an answer for you," he told her softly, his heart breaking at seeing her tears. She snorted, laughing slightly as she smiled.

"I honestly didn't expect you to." He nodded, and she turned back to the locker. "You know, growing up, I always wished I had a father." She looked back over at him. "Someone to make me their little girl, be protective, scare away the boys. I never had that, though. No matter where I was, no one ever cared about me, and what happened to me. Do you know what it's like, growing up with people who only want to keep you alive for financial reasons?" She sniffled, shaking her head before looking down at her lap. "It hurts. It hurts to know that you mean nothing to the people who you're supposed to look up to, ask for advice, love. I couldn't wait to get to college. And it was just as bad as being at home, and in high school." She wet her lips, sniffling and shaking her head.

"My relationship with Greg is the closest thing to true love that I've felt in my entire life," she whispered, continuing. "Even with Hodges, I didn't feel like this. He makes me so happy, and he just… knows me so well. I really love him with all of my heart. And even though we have him back, I feel like I've lost him."

"You haven't lost him," Grissom told her softly.

"I have if he knows my father kidnapped him. I'm enough of a head case, acid trip as it is. Add my father's torturing of him to the equation, and I don't think he's going to want to be with me."

"You don't know that." She shrugged.

"You're right, I don't. But I'm extremely pessimistic." Grissom chuckled softly.

"We're talking about Greg, Mia, and how he would react. Not how you would react." She sighed, nodding.

"You think I'm worrying too much about this?" He shrugged.

"'What private griefs they have, alas, I know not,'" he said simply, squeezing her shoulder again as he stood up. She shook her head.

"Julius Caesar?" she asked. He smiled.

"Yeah." He walked out of the room, and she inhaled deeply, clearing herself of her emotion before fixing her makeup and walking back into the layout room.

"You okay?" Warrick asked. She nodded, feigning a smile. Grissom's phone rang, causing everyone in the room to look at him.

"Grissom," he answered. "Hey, Brass." He paused for a moment. "Great." Another pause. "Yeah, I'll do that." Another pause. "Okay." He hung up, and turned to his team. "Stewart Jacobson is in custody."

"Thank God," Catherine said. "Let's go talk to him."

"He only wants to talk to Mia."

"What?" she asked. "Why me?"

"Because you're his daughter," Nick told her.

"I don't give a shit. I ain't doin' it."

"Look, you can do this."

"We don't need him to talk. We have enough evidence to prove he did it. And when Greg wakes up, we'll have even more. We don't need him."

"We need to know where he held Greg," Grissom said. Mia grumbled.

"Why do I have to talk to him, though?" she asked. "I'm more likely to kill him."

"I never said you were going to."

"Okay, so what's the plan?"

* * *

Mia walked into the interrogation room with Grissom beside her. Brass looked at the two of them, and Mia calmly sat down across from Stewart. "Alright, you got me," she told him. "What do you want?"

"Alone," Stewart said.

"You either do it this way, or not at all. We've got enough physical evidence to get a conviction as it is. We don't need anything from you."

"I did this for you." She looked at him like he'd lost his mind.

"What the fuck are you smoking?" Grissom moved to stand beside her and put his hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"He's not good enough for you."

"Says the guy who wasn't in my life for 27 years."

"Not by choice, Mia. Your mother wouldn't let me."

"Yeah, okay. I'll believe that." She rolled her eyes. "What kind of fool do you think I am?"

"I don't think you're a fool. Juliana thought I wasn't fit to raise her child."

"And you were okay with that, right?"

"No. I wanted to be a part of your life."

"You could've stepped forward when she died. You didn't. You left me to fend for myself in the system. So, forgive me if I don't believe you, okay?"

"I was married at that point, Mia. Married with twin daughters and two sons." She sighed harshly, shaking her head.

"You know what? I don't care. Tell us where you kept Greg."

"I have four other kids to think about."

"And I still don't care. Tell us where you kept Greg!"

"In a warehouse on Industrial. The one that used to belong to Jeremy Kiner."

"Thank you." She stood up, turning to leave the room.

"You really don't care why I kidnapped your boyfriend?" She stopped, turning around.

"Does that bother you?"

"No. In fact, it was exactly what I expected." She furrowed her brow, confused. "Someone who murders and manipulates like you do, it wouldn't surprise me to find out you don't care about the motives of people who hurt you." She stepped forward, leaning on the table to get in Stewart's face.

"You know something?" she asked, angrily. "I have never murdered anyone, and I'm not manipulative. I've been beaten and hurt so many times in my life, that I honestly don't care why people do things to hurt me. In fact, I try to be a bitch to give them a reason. But people who use my friends and family to hurt me, I have a real issue with that. Your motive doesn't matter to me, because your notes told us everything. And this conversation just solidified it. Rot in hell, bastard." She leaned back, turning to walk away.

"That's exactly what I expected you to say," he said. She stopped, and Grissom put his hand on her shoulder again. "Your life wasn't that bad. I know, I saw the whole thing."

"If you saw the whole thing, you wouldn't be saying anything."

"I saw the way you used those guys throughout your entire life. Your friends, your boyfriends, everyone." She clenched her jaw, grabbing Grissom's other hand in anger. "I couldn't let you do that to Greg. I'd rather he die than be used by you. He's been through enough in his life. He doesn't need to get fucked up by you." She squeezed Grissom's hand tighter, holding in her anger as best she could.

"If you knew anything about me," she began in a calm, even tone, "you wouldn't be worried about Greg."

"And I won't have to now." She shook her head, snorting angrily.

"Whatever you say. Greg and I are in love, and you can't change that." She walked out, bringing Grissom along with her. When they were in the hallway, he stopped her. "No, I'm not okay," she answered before he could even ask.

"Okay," he said. She sighed.

"Did I hurt your hand?" He shook his head. "Good. I didn't want to. It was either that, though, or punch him in the face."

"You did fine." She looked over at him.

"Glad you think so. Can we just finish this case?" He nodded, and the two of them walked away, leaving the station for the warehouse.


	7. Meet Me, and Don't Hate Me

A/N: So, I'm bored, and I have plenty of time since I'm on break, so I figured I'd update. :D I don't own anyone but Mia, Stewart,and Mikayla (who kinda starts coming into things right now). The rest belong to CBS and CSI. I hope ya'll enjoy the chapter, and please please please review.

* * *

Chapter 6: Meet Me, and Don't Hate Me

Nick leaned back against the support, sipping from his cup of coffee as he waited in the lounge of the airport. Several people walking by stopped to stare at him, few with nervous glances. He gave them a reassuring smile and a polite wave, knowing their curiosity in him stemmed from the LVPD jacket he was still wearing. He looked at the escalators, watching the people come down there as their planes landed. They greeted their loved ones with hugs, kisses, and occasional tears.

After a while, Mikayla made her way down the escalator. She found him as she rode down, giving him a smile and a wave. Nick smiled back, waving. She walked over to him, enveloping him in a big hug. She squeezed him tightly, and he kissed her gently on the top of the head. "Thank you so much, Uncle Nick," she said softly.

"No problem, sweetie," he replied. She let go of him after a while, and he took her bag from her.

"How's your friend?" she asked as they walked toward baggage. "The one that got kidnapped?"

"He's doin' okay. He got out of the hospital a few days ago."

"Already?"

"Yeah. He was lucky." She nodded, grabbing her bags off the belt. "This everything?"

"Yeah. Grandpa said he'll ship the rest out later." Nick nodded, carrying her bags for her and leading her to his truck. "Did you just get off work?"

"Yeah." She nodded, falling silent. She looked at the ground as she walked, and after a few minutes, he looked over at her. "You okay?" he asked, concerned.

"I don't know," she replied honestly.

"Wanna talk about it?"

"It's just… I feel bad. Mom's pissed off at me, Grandma and Grandpa are pissed at Mom, and it's all my fault. Mom doesn't want me… us. Grandma and Grandpa are willing to help, but Mom's mad at them and doesn't want them to. It just feels like no one out there wants me and that I got banished to Vegas." Nick sighed, frowning slightly.

"Honey, what's going on between your mom and your grandparents is somethin' they were fightin' about when I came along. It's not you, okay, sweetie?" She nodded. "You're not banished here, I asked you to come because I wanted you to come here. I thought it'd be best for you." She nodded again, and Nick gave her a small smile.

"What about school?" she asked as they began to drive.

"What about it?" he replied.

"After the baby's born, how will I go to school?"

"Sweetie, you know I work nights. I'll be home during the day."

"I need a job."

"Let's worry about one thing at a time, okay? First, let's get you home and get you set up in your room. We'll worry about the rest later."

"Oh, my God, a room. Where's the baby going to sleep?"

"Don't worry, I've got plenty of room. Again, though, one thing at a time." She sighed, nodding.

"This coming to Vegas thing was a bad idea. I can't do this, Uncle Nicky. I can't be a mother. I should've listened to _my_ mother…"

"Hey, hey, honey, it's all going to be okay. You can do this, alright? I'll help you out anyway I can. Everything is gonna be just fine."

"I'm scared. I don't wanna screw this up."

"You'll be fine." She nodded as they rolled up to Nick's gate, and she gasped, taking in the sight of the house before her.

"Last time I was out here, your house was not this big, nor did it have a gate," she remarked.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "After the stalking and the kidnapping, I moved and went a little security crazy. Grandma and Grandpa helped me out." She nodded.

"I'm glad it turned out okay for you." He chuckled.

"Yeah, me too." He grabbed her things out after parking in the driveway, carrying them to the front door. They went inside, and he showed her to her room. He let her settle in while he took a nap, knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep much today after getting her settled and showing her around.

* * *

Mia sighed, rolling over in her empty bed as she failed miserably at her attempt to sleep. Greg had decided a few days ago that he needed some space, and had moved out. She got up, not having slept more than a few hours the previous night and knowing it would be barely enough to get her through the day. She took a long shower before ignoring her kitchen. Life wasn't the same without Greg, and neither was her desire for food. She picked up her keys, leaving early for work.

* * *

Nick walked into the break room, finding Mia sitting at the table, playing with a cup of coffee. "Hey," he said, getting her attention.

"Sir Chubs-A-Lot," she grunted. Nick sighed.

"I thought you'd gotten over that."

"You thought wrong. How's your niece?"

"Scared, nervous, and probably sleeping by now. How's Greg?"

"Dunno. Haven't talked to him." Nick arched his eyebrows.

"Really?" Mia sighed, shrugging as she tossed her hair aside.

"He won't answer when I call, he moved out, and he hates me."

"I don't think he hates you." She snorted.

"Right. He's just avoiding me because he's infatuated with me. That makes sense." She rolled her eyes as he frowned.

"Want me to…"

"No. Just leave it alone." He nodded silently as Warrick walked in.

"Hey guys," he said.

"Hey," Nick replied while Mia groaned in response. Warrick arched his eyebrows in Nick's direction, and Nick mouthed 'Greg' back to him. Warrick nodded as Mia sighed.

"Can't you just ask me yourself next time?" she grumbled, looking at Warrick. He glanced at Nick, who smiled.

"Sorry," Warrick replied with a chuckle. She shrugged, turning back to her cup of coffee as Warrick turned back to Nick. "Your niece get in?"

"Yeah, she's at home," Nick said.

"That's good. How's she doin'?"

"Scared, nervous, you know." Warrick nodded as he looked at Mia. He looked back to Nick, nodding toward her. Nick shrugged as Catherine walked in.

"Hey, guys," she said, pouring herself some coffee.

"Hey, Cath," Warrick greeted her as Nick smiled.

"Looks like tonight could be a rough one."

"Can't Las Vegas ever just go to bed early?" Nick asked, causing everyone to chuckle.

"Well, you know," Catherine said. "Hey, Mia, when does Greg come back?"

"You'd have to ask him," she replied curtly.

"You don't know?"

"No."

"How come?"

"Because, I'm not his fucking keeper, okay? I haven't fucking seen or heard from him since he fucking moved out."

"He moved out?" Mia sighed.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because he fucking hates me. And I don't fucking blame him." Catherine looked at the boys with a soft frown.

"You didn't do anything to him."

"No, my fucking whack job father did. It's like Nick being with Kelly Gordon after what her fucking father did." Warrick and Catherine looked at Nick, who shrugged. "Except it's Greg, and it's me, and I am way more work for Greg than I'm worth."

"That's not true," Nick told her. She snorted.

"Yeah, right. Like you really fucking mean that, Tubby," she retorted.

"He'll come around," Warrick said. Mia shrugged.

"Whatever." Grissom walked in with Greg trailing behind him. Nick, Warrick, and Catherine rushed to welcome him back, while Mia remained at her spot at the table, staring at her coffee cup. Grissom watched her with mild curiosity, wondering why she hadn't moved. Greg smiled at the three older CSIs before looking over at Mia. She looked up, smiling sweetly at him. He returned her smile with a cold stare and a slight nod. Grissom arched his eyebrows, watching as the others in the room reacted to the transaction. Mia's face dropped emotion, growing into her normal, fixed stare. Catherine, Nick, and Warrick looked slightly confused, but not surprised at the greeting. Grissom looked around before clearing his throat.

"Nick, you and Mia have a 419 off-Strip," he began. "Catherine, you and Greg have a body of your own, with a possible domestic violence charge as well, in Henderson. Warrick's with me at Lake Mead." Everyone nodded, and Warrick and Grissom left. Catherine and Greg began to leave when Mia caught Greg's arm. Greg glared at her, and Nick and Catherine moved aside, making themselves scarce while still being around.

"So, this is how it's gonna be, huh?" Mia asked, her voice soft. Greg rolled his eyes.

"What did you expect?" he replied coldly. "That we'd be fine? Act like nothing happened?"

"I didn't do anything to you."

"Yet."

"I wouldn't. I love you." Greg snorted. "You have no reason to doubt me."

"Yeah, whatever you wanna think, so long as it helps you sleep at night."

"I'm not."

"I don't care."

"Why do you hate me?"

"Because I see you for what you really are." Catherine and Nick looked at one another, slightly shocked by Greg's words. "And I want nothing to do with that."

"Enough," Catherine said. "Let's go, Greg." She grabbed his arm, pulling him away. Nick walked over cautiously as he heard her sniffle back the tears that threatened to fall. He threw an arm around her shoulders, giving her a gentle hug.

"You okay?" he asked her softly. She sniffled again, squaring her shoulders.

"Fine," she snapped, her voice colder than he'd ever heard it before. He nodded, letting go of her and walking away with the theory that the old Mia was coming back… and then some.

* * *

"So, what's the deal between you and Mia?" Catherine asked, looking over at Greg at the red light. He shifted in his seat, turning his head away from her.

"What are you talking about?" he replied as he stared out the window.

"I'm talking about you being an asshole to her when she didn't do a damn thing to you."

"It's none of your damn business, Catherine." She arched her eyebrows at his cold tone.

"Look, I know what you went through must have been terrible, but don't take it out on the ones that love you, okay?" Greg glared over at her as the light turned green and they moved forward.

* * *

"So, you wanna talk about it?" Nick asked, looking over at Mia.

"Suicide," she replied. He furrowed his brow before realization set in.

"I…wasn't talking about the vic, but alright."

"We should be. We're working. Or, at least I am. I don't know about you."

"Hey, I'm working."

"Fine, then less talk." He groaned, shaking his head.

"You're becomin' an ass again." She shrugged.

"Never stopped being one." She stood up from where she had crouched beside a blood pool. "No note, and no gun."

"No suicide?" She shrugged.

"Dunno. There's not always a note." He sighed.

"If she went to all the trouble to make herself look this good, don't you think she'd leave a note? It looks like it's all about attention, doesn't it?"

"I guess. So, what are you saying?" He shrugged.

"I'm just sayin'." She smirked.

"I agree." He arched his eyebrows. "I think she was murdered."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's too perfect, you know? I think she was jumped by someone she trusted as she got ready to go out. Forced to stay still while he shot her and made it look like she shot herself." Nick bit his lip pensively before snapping his fingers. Mia looked at him sharply.

"C'mere," he said, waving her over. She continued to stare at him. "I'm serious." She shrugged, shaking her head and obliging him. He positioned her with her back to him. "Now, I'm our mystery shooter, right? I wanna kill you, and you actually trust me."

"There's a stretch," she retorted, glancing at him over her shoulder.

"You said it, not me. Now, I'm gonna kill you, and I wanna make it look like a suicide, so I position the gun under your chin." He made a gun with his fingers, placing them under her chin. "Now, at my height with you, I'd have to worry that a through and through is gonna get me too."

"So, we're looking for someone shorter than our vic?" Mia looked back over her shoulder at Nick, who still had his arms around her with his hands under her chin.

"Yeah, I would say so."

"Boyfriend's shorter by three inches." He grinned, letting go of her.

"Let's get him, then." She grinned as she tossed her hair, oblivious of the danger that lurked ahead for her and Nick.


	8. Save Me, Part 2

A/N: I'm glad to see some new people have added this to their favorites, but please, drop me a line and let me know why you're liking it! lol. Anyway, standard disclaimer: I only own Mia, Stewart, and Mikayla. Everyone else belongs to CBS and CSI, and I don't own either of those or any other known entity contained within. We're actually nearing the end of this story... 2 chapters left after this! Let me know what you're thinking, because I love reviews! :D

* * *

Chapter 7: Save Me, Part 2

"So, an accident, huh?" Warrick said to Grissom.

"Looks that way," Grissom replied. Warrick nodded, sitting back in the chair. Grissom looked at him from across the desk as he leaned back. "Something wrong?"

"Yeah. Our team is falling apart."

"What makes you say that?"

"It starts with Greg and Mia, until all of us are at each others throats." Warrick sighed, and Grissom kept watching him.

"Everything'll be fine. You know that."

"I'm not so sure, Griss."

"Why not?" Warrick made a confused gesture with his hand.

"Greg's… not Greg anymore. He moved out of Mia's place, you know."

"Yeah, I know. He filled out the change of address card." Warrick sighed.

"Somethin' doesn't feel right, Griss. Somethin' bad happened to him, and he ain't talkin'. Did he even do his PEAP counseling?"

"You know I can't discuss that with you."

"You know if he didn't, Ecklie'll spread it all over the lab."

"And have you heard anything?" Warrick sighed.

"No, but that doesn't mean anything. I mean, Ecklie works fast, but not that fast." Grissom shrugged.

"Either way." Warrick sighed.

"I don't know, Griss. I think this team's gonna split. Somethin's gonna happen, and it's not gonna be good." Grissom shrugged.

"You could be right." Grissom's phone rang, and he answered it quickly. "Grissom. Hey, Vega." He arched his eyebrows. "Are they okay? Alright. Thanks." He hung up, turning to Warrick.

"What happened?" Warrick asked, concerned.

"Nick and Mia were gunned down at the crime scene," Grissom answered. "They've been taken to Desert Palms. Vega said they were still alive, but not doing well." Warrick sighed.

"Damn. You wanna call Cath and Greg, or you want me to?" Grissom shook his head.

"It's my job. I'll do it." Warrick nodded, frowning.

"Alright. I'll see you there?" Grissom nodded as Warrick left.

* * *

Catherine stood up as her phone rang, fishing it out of her pocket. "Willows," she answered. "Oh, hey, Grissom." Greg looked up from the floor to see her. "You're kidding me. Are they okay?" Greg knitted his brows together, confused. "Alright. We're almost done here, so we'll drop our stuff off and head over there." She closed her phone, turning to Greg.

"What's going on?" he asked her.

"Nick and Mia were shot at their scene," she told him. He closed his eyes, heaving a deep sigh.

"Who?"

"The suspect. They went to talk to him, and he shot them. Vega shot to kill him." Greg nodded, opening his eyes and taking his swab.

"They okay?"

"Not really. They're in surgery."

"Well, let's hope all goes well, huh?" Catherine furrowed her brows at his remark.

"What, you hate Nick too?"

"No."

"You really hate her that much?"

"Come on, Catherine. More than likely, she caused them to get shot. You know that as well as I do. She has no regard for anyone else's life."

"You were always the person who said otherwise."

"Yeah, well, things change."

"YOU'VE changed, Greg," she snapped.

"Can you blame me?" he replied. "I was tortured because of her."

"She didn't do anything to you, and you hate her for it. Grow up, won't you?" He groaned, shaking his head. "Your girlfriend, the woman you love, is on an operating table and could possibly die."

"Who said I love her?"

"You wouldn't worry about her deceiving you if you didn't. You loved her before the kidnapping. You mean to tell me you still don't? You're hurt, you're confused, and I get it. You went through something terrible, and I get that too. I don't expect you to be one hundred percent. But this thing you have against her is something I don't get."

"You wouldn't understand."

"Then explain it to me." Greg stood, shaking his head.

"I can't. I'm done." He snapped off his gloves, tucking them away in his kit. Catherine watched in shock as he walked out the door, seemingly not affected by the news of his friends' fates.

* * *

Catherine arrived at the hospital without Greg, meeting up with Warrick and Grissom. "How are they?" she asked.

"Still in surgery," Grissom replied.

"Where the hell is Greg?" Warrick asked.

"I told him to stay at the lab," Catherine explained. "Said we didn't need his negativity here."

"Negativity? Greg?"

"He wasn't at all phased by the news. In fact, he immediately blamed it on Mia."

"He jumped the gun," Vega said as he walked up. "Mia didn't have anything to do with them getting shot. Second they walked up, suspect saw their jackets and shot at them. Don't know where he got the gun, but I do know that he won't be doing it again."

"He dead?" Warrick asked. Vega nodded.

"Yeah. Too bad I couldn't get him before he got them."

"Not your fault, Vega," Catherine said. He nodded.

"Hey, wait a minute," Vega said. "Where's Sanders?"

"At the lab." Vega arched his eyebrows.

"That's cold. I'd heard he'd changed and become a jerk, but I didn't think…"

"I told him to stay there."

"Why?"

"Because he's got a huge thing against Mia right now, and we don't need that here."

"I thought they were together."

"Until the kidnapping," Warrick said. Vega shook his head.

"She had nothing to do with that, though… right?" he said.

"No, she didn't. She was with us, and she loved him. She wouldn't do that." Vega sighed.

"So, why'd they break up? She dump him?"

"He left her. He's mad at her because her father kidnapped him."

"She's still in love," Catherine added.

"And Greg's just making it worse," Warrick said. "He refuses to talk to her."

"He fights with her."

"He fights with her?"

"After you guys left, in the break room. Nick was there, too." Warrick shook his head.

"I thought he loved her." The three of them looked to the floor, and Grissom watched them.

"Maybe he does," Brass said as he walked up. "I mean, you wouldn't be hurt by the idea that someone you knew had something to do with you getting hurt unless you actually cared about them, would you?"

"He's hurting her," Catherine said.

"You know, I'm surprised you care."

"She's a member of this team. Of course I care." Brass arched his eyebrows. "Yes, she and I butt heads, but at the end of the day, we still work together, and she does a damn good job. So, yeah, I care about her." Brass shrugged as a doctor came out.

"You guys all here for Nick Stokes and Catalina Salvatori?" he asked.

"Yes," Vega said. "How are they?"

"Mr. Stokes sustained a bullet wound to his chest, got stuck in his rib and missed everything else, fortunately. He'll be fine, but he'll be in a bit of pain from the rib. Miss Salvatori was shot in the abdomen, and she was lucky as well that the bullet didn't hit anything major. She's lost a lot of blood, but should be okay in a day or two. They're in adjacent rooms, on the eighth floor, 833 and 835."

"Thank you, Doctor," Grissom said quietly. The doctor nodded, leaving.

"Someone wanna call Greg at the lab?" Warrick asked. "Let him know what's going on?"

"I'll take care of him," Catherine said, walking away.

"Why wasn't he here?" Brass asked.

"Because he needs an attitude readjustment," Warrick said.

"Him, not her?"

"He left her." Brass looked surprised as Warrick walked away. Vega followed after him, leaving Brass with Grissom.

"He left her?" he asked Grissom.

"Yeah," Grissom replied.

"Why? She have something to do with the kidnapping?"

"Not directly, and not purposely."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I think Stewart messed with Greg's mind." Brass scoffed.

"You think?" Grissom ignored the comment.

"He came by one night, asked Mia for some money. To keep him close, she wrote him a check."

"You think he waved that in front of Sanders?" Grissom shrugged.

"I don't know."

"Guy gets kidnapped and tortured by his girlfriend's father. Now, Greg's a pretty rational guy, would never believe she had anything to do with it, unless faced with proof. I mean, your theory makes sense. Makes a lot of sense, actually."

"Only one way to prove it."

"Get Greg to talk."

"And that's not happening."

"He do his PEAP?"

"Yeah, but you know they can't tell us anything." Brass nodded.

"So, tell him that after his actions in the break room today, he either talks to you or he's out of a job," he said. Grissom shook his head.

"I can't do that, and you know it," he told the captain.

"There's gotta be some way to make him talk."

"I don't know about that."

* * *

His cell phone rang as he sat in the break room, and he looked at it in annoyance. Wendy groaned. "You gonna answer that?" she snapped. Greg looked up at her.

"You mad at me too?" he retorted, throwing away his sandwich wrapper with a lot of force.

"Well, let's see. You manage to get my best friend to love you and trust you, and then you turn on her. What do you think?"

"She turned on me first."

"Greg, you know in your heart that's not true. Sooner you believe that, the better."

"You don't know shit, Wendy. Okay? The sooner you believe that, the better."

"You're a fucking asshole, Greg. You know what? I know I don't know what happened to you, and I never will, but I can't believe that it would turn you from a happy, funny guy who loved Mia so much that he'd die for her into a monster who lives to hurt her. You don't care about anyone but yourself. I can understand wanting to be a little selfish, but I can't understand you turning your back on a girl that has done nothing but love you. Turning your back on someone who's been your friend for longer than I've been here, back when you were still a lab tech. Turning your back on your team. You've become a fucking douche bag, Greg, worse than Hodges." She stormed out of the room, and Greg sighed. Having missed the call, he picked up his phone, noting that it had been Catherine. He opened up the phone and called her back.

"Willows," she answered.

"Hey, Catherine," Greg said. "Sorry I missed your call. I was at an ass chewing."

"Greg, hi. Who?"

"Wendy. What's going on?"

"Just wanted to let you know Nick and Mia are out of surgery and doing fine." He nodded, even though she couldn't see.

"Great."

"Mia didn't cause this."

"Whatever. Look, I can't talk because I'm being paged by Trace, but I think Wendy's probably going to call you about results, considering she doesn't like me right now."

"Okay. I'll talk to you later, Greg."

"Later, Catherine." He hung up, having lied about the page and not feeling bad about it. He heaved a disturbed sigh, thinking about what Wendy had said. She was right. He had changed. He was turning his back on everybody. But that wasn't what bothered him.

What did was the fact that he didn't care anymore.


	9. Don't Fight With Me, and Don't Kill Me

A/N: Second to last chapter!  I don't own CSI, CBS, or any other known entity.  I do own Mia, Stewart, Mikayla, and Genevieve (who kinda comes into this chapter).  Another cliffhanger, so be prepared for that... haha.  I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and please review. :)

* * *

Chapter 8: Don't Fight With Me, and Don't Kill Me

Mikayla walked into Nick's bedroom, finding her uncle asleep. "Nick?" she asked softly, walking over to him. He mumbled in his sleep. "Nick?" She shook him gently, and he rolled over.

"Few more minutes, Mom," he muttered, still asleep. She giggled.

"Nick, there's a phone call for you. Wake up." He opened his eyes to find her sitting on the edge of the bed, phone in hand. He smiled.

"Thanks." He took the phone from her, and she stood outside the room. "Hello?" he said into the receiver.

"Nicholas," Genevieve answered softly.

"Genevieve. What can I do for you?"

"How's Mikayla doing?"

"Fine. Why are you asking?"

"I know she's with you."

"Yes, because I knew if she stayed close to you, you'd make her life hell."

"Very protective of her, aren't you?"

"She's my niece. Of course." He heard her sigh, and he furrowed his brow.

"Well, you know, I think it's time I explained something to you."

"Like what?"

"Something you probably should've heard a long time ago. I'm sorry, Nicky."

"Sorry? For what?"

"I over-reacted with Mikayla. I shouldn't have. Like mother, like daughter, I guess."

"What are you talking about?"

"When I was her age, I got pregnant."

"That doesn't surprise me."

"Shut up."

"Sorry. Continue."

"You were that kid, Nicky." Nick laughed.

"You're kidding me, right?" he said.

"No," she replied. "Didn't you ever wonder why the six of us were all close in age, and then there was you?"

"Well, yeah, I figured I was an accident."

"Mom had her tubes tied after Will, seven years before you came around." He sighed, raking his hand through his hair. "I got pregnant, and Mom and Dad were pissed. So, rather than make me throw my life away, they raised you as if you were our sibling."

"So, everyone else knows I'm…" His voice trailed off as he sat in confusion.

"Yes. We told them never to tell you."

"Were you ever going to tell me?"

"I… just kept putting it off. I meant to."

"Why now?"

"Because, I made a mistake with Mikayla. I need to rectify it."

"I'm not makin' her go back to ease your hypocrisy." She sighed.

"I respect that. I just, need to know that she's going to be okay out there."

"I'm here. She'll be fine. I'll take care of her, and she can get a job out here."

"And the kid?"

"Will be fine as well. You wanna fix things with her, though? You should talk to her, not me. I'm not makin' her do anything she doesn't wanna do. If you wanna make things right, you gotta do it." She sighed again.

"I know."

"Look, Gen, I gotta get ready for work."

"You're going back already?"

"It's been a couple weeks. I'm fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes, Gen," he groaned. "Now, I'll talk to you later. Talk to your daughter."

"Alright," she said. "Be safe, Nicky."

"I will. Bye."

"Bye." He hung up, sighing. He rubbed his face as Mikayla walked back in.

"You okay, Uncle Nick?" she asked softly.

"Kid, I got a doozy for you," he said, patting beside him. "And somethin' I'm gonna need your help provin'…"

* * *

"You're kidding, right?" Warrick said as he and Nick sat in the break room. "Mikayla's your sister, not your niece?"

"Half-sister, and yeah," Nick replied.

"Holy shit. How old was Genevieve when you were born?"

"Seventeen or eighteen."

"Hypocrite." Nick nodded. "Your entire family knew."

"Yeah, and they've all lied to me."

"Hey, it was Genevieve's story to tell, not anyone else's."

"Yeah, I know, but that doesn't make me feel better." Greg walked in, and the conversation between Nick and Warrick halted. Even after Nick and Mia had returned to work, things were still strained between Greg and Mia. He was still angry and bitter, and she wasn't helping the situation. She was back to her angry, hostile form, causing trouble for just about everyone she worked with while everyone tried to get Greg to make amends. He kept refusing, stating that he didn't care.

But as time marched on, he felt his heart rewarming to her, slowly but surely. Only, it wasn't showing. He was starting to make amends with Catherine, Warrick, Nick, and Grissom, fighting less with them. But with Mia, it was as bad, if not worse. And for that, the rest of the team, save Grissom, fought with him.

Mia walked in, and Greg turned to her, glaring slightly. She shook her head. "You know what?" she said. "I'm sick of this shit. Just fucking ignore me. Stop with the fucking glares."

"Can't help it," Greg replied. "You make me sick."

"I make you sick? Well, excuse me. I wasn't the one that fucking made me fall in love with them and trust them. What the fuck good was that for? I wish you'd have told me you were gonna fucking turn on me worse than anyone else."

"Yeah, back at you."

"I never did a fucking thing to you!"

"You paid someone to kidnap me!" Nick and Warrick exchanged glances of disbelief.

"Is that what you fucking think?"

"I fucking know it!"

"Ask Grissom. That's not what fucking happened. He was there."

"Yeah, okay. Whatever."

"I love you, Greg. I wouldn't ever do anything to fucking hurt you. I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my entire fucking life. And this is how you fucking repay me?"

"I don't actually believe a word you say anymore."

"Fuck you, Greg Sanders."

"No, fuck you, you childish little bitch! You're a liar, and a bad one at that. And when you're called out on it, you scream and yell until you fucking get what you want. Well, I'm not with that anymore. I'm done dealing with you and your childish fucking ways. You're a drama queen attention whore!"

"What the fuck are you smoking?"

"You pick fights just for the fucking hell of it. You're petty, childish, and you always draw unwanted attention to yourself with your fucking acts of God only knows what to piss people off. You're useless, and a shitload of trouble that we don't need around here. You know what? If you really wanna die, just go fucking kill yourself. Do the world that fucking favor. Just fucking end it. It'll be a helluva lot better. Just go fucking kill yourself." After drinking a cup of water quickly, Greg left the room without another word to any of them, leaving them all in a state of silent shock.

* * *

"Greg," Grissom called from his office as Greg stormed by. Greg stopped to appear in the doorway.

"Yes?" he asked, looking at his supervisor.

"Come here." Greg nodded, walking in and closing the door.

"What's up?"

"I wanted to check in with you. I've noticed you've been taking a lot of heat from the others."

"Yeah. You know, ironically enough, they're all on her side. When they hate her."

"Well, you have nothing on her, unless she did something I don't know about." He sighed, anger still boiling within him.

"She paid off her father to kidnap and torture me," he blurted out in aggravation. "Okay? Happy now?" Grissom sighed.

"Is that what Stewart told you?"

"Yes."

"And you believed him." Greg sighed.

"Yeah, I guess. Had no reason not to. He showed me the check."

"Greg, that's not what happened. That check was written after you were taken. She didn't have contact with Stewart before you were taken." Greg sighed again.

"I don't know what to believe anymore, Grissom."

"I can see that. Listen to me, Greg. I was there when Stewart asked her for the money to help him get set up here in Las Vegas. You never came up in that conversation. He showed you that check to hurt you. Anything he told you, you can't believe."

"How do I know that?" Greg whispered. Grissom almost felt bad for the kid, who was starting to crumble in front of him.

"He said all those things to hurt you, and Mia. He was angry and bitter. You love her, Greg. I know you still do. I could see it after her and Nick got shot. You care a lot about her."

"But…"

"She never had anything to do with your kidnapping." Greg sighed softly.

"I think I screwed up, Grissom," he said softly.

"How?" Grissom asked.

"We just fought in the break room, and I said some things I shouldn't have, and… I think I really hurt her, Grissom. Bad."

"Greg, you being mad at her has been hurting her."

"I know. I know. She's back to the way she used to be, and it's all my fault. But, I swear to you, I can't really help it."

"You need to get help, Greg." Tears began to roll down Greg's cheeks, and Grissom stood up and moved to the front of his desk, standing in front of Greg. "Before you hurt her beyond the point of no return." Greg scoffed softly.

"Yeah, well, it may be a bit late for that."

"What'd you say this time?"

"Well…"

* * *

Catherine followed the sounds of the sniffles to the locker room, finding Mia with her head in her locker. "Hey," she said softly, having heard about the break room fiasco from Nick and Warrick.

"Hey," Mia replied with a sniffle.

"You wanna talk about it?"

"Not really." Catherine sat next to her, rubbing her on the back. They remained like that for a few moments in silence, the only sound coming from Mia's sniffles. "Look, Catherine, I appreciate everything you've done, but I kinda want to be alone right now."

"Okay, I respect that."

"Thanks." Catherine stood up, starting to walk away before stopping.

"Mia?" Mia looked up at her. "Please, don't do anything stupid." She sniffled.

"Okay." Catherine nodded, walking out of the locker room. Mia buried her head back in her locker, continuing to cry in her solitude. After a few moments, she sniffled, setting her mind completely. "Sorry, Catherine," she whispered quietly to herself.

* * *

Greg walked into the locker room, looking for Mia. He needed to apologize, start to make amends. "Mia?" he asked aloud. No response. He saw a piece of paper taped to his locker with his name on it. Knowing it was her handwriting on the outside, he pulled it off gently, opening it up to read it.

_Greg,_ it read. _By the time you find this, it'll be too late. You were right. I'm nothing but trouble, and you guys don't need me. You've done fine without me before, and you'll continue that way. I'm sorry I hurt you. Know that I never meant to. I meant it when I said I love you, which is why I have to do this. You're all going to be better off without me. You're right. I'm sorry, Greg. I love you, which is why it's over. It's all over._


	10. Meet Up With Me

A/N: I don't own CSI, CBS, or any other known entity. Mia, Stewart, and Mikayla are mine. I'll have a better note at the end.

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Epilogue: Meet Up With Me

Nick sighed, clicking his fingers on the mug as he watched the minutes tick by. His boredom and nerves grew with each revolution of the second hand, as well as the stares from the other patrons. He kept thinking about how this was a bad idea, a feeling that grew the longer he waited for her. The patrons had a feeling he was being stood up, one that he was starting to share until he saw her walk in. He smiled, waving at her. She nodded, striding over to him as he stood up.

"Hey," he said, hugging her tightly. Mia smiled.

"Hi," she said quickly. They both sat back down.

"How've you been?"

"I've been okay." It had been three months since she had left Las Vegas without a word to anyone. She sighed softly, still smiling slightly. "You?"

"I'm livin'." She nodded.

"How's Mikayla doing?"

"Great. She's doing fine. She's due in a few months." Mia nodded.

"That's good to hear, that she's doing fine. And, I remember that."

"Yeah." The waitress poured Mia a mug of coffee, and the two of them placed their orders. She walked away, and Mia watched her for a moment in silence.

"I have to admit, I was surprised to hear from you," Mia finally said. "I thought you'd all leave it alone."

"Yeah," Nick replied. "You made it sound like a suicide note. Most of us knew you'd just left, though." She shrugged.

"I did what I had to do. I couldn't live out there anymore."

"I understand. I just wish you'd stayed."

"I couldn't." Silence fell over them for a moment before curiosity got the best of her. "Why'd you track me down?" she asked.

"Because, I knew you were still alive," he said.

"So?"

"Look, you may not have liked me that much, but you're still my friend, and I care about you. I wanted to make sure you were okay. So, I followed the evidence and found you." She nodded, thinking.

"Do the others know you did this?"

"No." He took a sip of his coffee as the waitress delivered their orders. They thanked her, and fell silent, allowing the food before them to serve as a momentary distraction.

"What'd you tell them about going to L.A.?"

"I didn't. I don't have to tell them where I'm spending my vacation."

"So, this was a secret trip." He nodded. "Why?"

"You left like a ghost for a reason. Did you really want them knowing I found you in L.A.?"

"I guess not. But tell me why you're really here."

"Because I wanted to see how you were doing."

"If that was the case, you'd talk to me on the phone."

"But that wouldn't give me the visual confirmation that I was going for."

"Nick," she said, her tone warning. He sighed.

"I, came to talk to you, and ask you to consider coming back," he said eventually.

"Why?"

"Because we need you, Mia." She snorted.

"Nick, you guys were fine before I got there. You'll be fine without me."

"No, we won't. Mia, Greg's a wreck without you."

"Tell me why I should care. He hurt me, Nick. He got me to love and trust him, and he turned against me."

"Mia, your father brainwashed him into thinking you're the devil. He made Greg believe the check you gave him was for Greg's kidnapping, not to help him out."

"How do you know about that?"

"Greg." She nodded, sighing. "I've been having to pick him up at bars, pick him up off the floor, stay with him to make sure that this time, he didn't overdo it."

"What's he doing?" she asked.

"Drinking," he replied, sipping his coffee. She sighed.

"Tell me why I should care."

"If not for him, then for everyone else who's watching him self-destruct."

"Nick, you know as well as I do that half of you guys didn't give a shit about me."

"Mia, Catherine and Warrick always had your back, whether you realized it or not. Do you know what it's like for them to watch him go down that road? And to know that we can't stop him?"

"What do you want from me?" she asked, growing angry. "You think if I come back, things'll suddenly be better? Do you really think that he's going to stop because of me? I'm not the reason he's doing it."

"Look, don't get mad, okay?" Nick said calmly. "I'm just telling you what you left behind."

"You're guilt-tripping me, Nicholas." He sighed.

"That wasn't my intention."

"Then why'd you bring up Greg? Why'd you bring up the others? If you didn't mean to guilt me, then why the hell did you do it?"

"I'm sorry. It's been hard on us."

"And if Catherine and Warrick cared so much, wouldn't they have tried to find me like you did? Grissom, too? Or are you just the good Samaritan, acting for everyone else? What is it, Nicky?"

"They all figured you needed your space, and that was why you left." She sighed.

"So why'd you follow me?"

"Because, I know better." Mia sighed, looking out the window. "I know you still love Greg. I know you liked being in Vegas more than you hated it. I know you actually cared about this team."

"You're right," she said quietly after a moment.

"I know," he replied, watching her. She turned back to him.

"But I'm sorry, Nick. I don't know if I can go back there." He nodded.

"I understand." She nodded, looking back out the window as the tears threatened to pool in her eyes. "I hate to drop this on you and run, but I gotta go. I got a plane to catch." She nodded again, not looking at him. "I'd love to be able to see you again sometime, maybe even in Vegas, but only when you're ready, okay?" She nodded again as he grabbed his coat and put down enough money to cover both of them. He leaned over and hugged her gently. "Call me if you need anything, honey."

"I will," she said softly, giving him a sad smile. He nodded, squeezing her shoulder before leaving her alone to stare out the window and contemplate the rest of her life.

The End.

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A/N2: Okay, so, I hope you guys have enjoyed this story all along. There is a third in the works, titled "Will You Defeat Them?", and it should be debuting mid to late April (when I have more time to update regularly). Here's a little sample:

"How does that..."

"Make me feel?" He sighed, biting his lip. "Sad, really. Sad that I lost her. She trusted me, and I broke her heart. She's a hard person to crack, to get in with, and I managed to do it. I don't think she'll let me in again if I see her. Nick keeps telling me that's not the case, but I don't know."

"When was the last time you saw her?"

"I don't know. Seven, eight months ago?"

"Where'd she go?"

"Nick said he found her in LA. She has an apartment out there, no clue about a job, though."

"Have you tried contacting her?"

"Once. I tried calling her."

"How did that go?"

"I hung up after she answered."

"How come?"

"I wasn't sure what to say to her."

So, if you would like more, and if you liked what you've read, please review and let me know. :) Thanks for joining me.


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